


every letter that you wrote (has found it's way to me my dear)

by MerryDreaming



Series: OTP series: M!Byleth/Linhardt [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Post-Timeskip, also reference to their ending, but i'm mostly unspoiled on actual in-game happenings so this is mildly spoiler free, but otherwise i have not read their support to avoid spoilers, discussion of love letters, mildish spoilers?, no betas we die like men, pre-release, reference to timeskip appearances, so mild spoilers, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryDreaming/pseuds/MerryDreaming
Summary: Linhardt never really considered Byleth the sentimental type.





	every letter that you wrote (has found it's way to me my dear)

The lakeside near the von Hevring estate is truly an incredible napping spot; Linhardt had always said that he preferred it here to most other places (that is, if he didn't have the option of a comfortable bed or desk), and Byleth can certainly see why; the crystalline lakefront is truly gorgeous. And that's to say nothing of the multitude of beautiful wildflowers that surround them as they lay on the ground, speckling the landscape in all manner of colors. Byleth's head turns to see Linhardt, surprisingly not asleep yet; his half lidded eyes definitely imply that it's a likely outcome. His hand gently wanders over to take a stray lock of the long green hair that adorns his husband, earning a bit of a chuckle from the man laying beside him.

"That tickles..."

"Does it?" Byleth's expression doesn't really change, though his lips quirk a bit as he turns toward his love. "I wasn't aware. Perhaps I'll have to file that in my mental spare cabinet..."

"I wouldn't try it if I were you." Linhardt's tone seems grave and serious, but he turns to look at Byleth with something of a contented smile. "Not unless you want to face a steep nap fine..."

"Oh, what ever will I do?" Byleth nudges himself closer, resting his head right by his husband as his eyes soften. "I suppose I'll have to keep serving my sentences out, then..."

"Oh, you will." The green haired man gives a tired wink before pressing a light kiss on Byleth's nose; he was perhaps a little too lazy to try and go for anything else, but it was worth it to see the white haired man's nose scrunch just the slightest bit. He loved many things about Byleth, and that was merely one of the many cute things that his dear husband did that Linhardt wanted to commit to memory.

Byleth let the slightest chuckle escape him; emotions still didn't come very easy to him, but he was at least somewhat thankful that the crest scholar didn't seem to mind all that much. "You look so content."

"Do I?"

"Yes." Byleth stares into Linhardt's eyes, taking in his expression with the former professor's own neutral one. "It's...lovely, to see that. After all of this time."

"And here everyone thought I was too peaceful for my own good..." Linhardt laughs a little, however, clearly unperturbed. "It's just...wonderful, to be back home with you. I've really missed this place, and sharing my favorite napping spot with you is a dream come true."

Byleth laughs, ever so slightly. "I feel much the same." He pauses for a moment, clearly thinking while he looks around the lake before seeming to nod in some form of affirmation. "Though, I suppose this _does_ explain where your preference for wildflower stationary..."

That manages to confuse Linhardt for a moment; of all of the comments to make, why would he bring up something like that...? "I beg your pardon, Byleth...?"

"You don't remember?" Byleth looks over to Linhardt, his expression mostly neutral, though slightly confused. "That _was_ your handwriting on those letters that I used to receive, wasn't it?"

Oh! ... _Ohhh_. The crest scholar feels his cheeks begin to heat up, practically jolting up to look down at his former professor with wild eyes. "Wait, you actually...remember those?!"

"...Yes?" Byleth looks even more confused now. "How could I not? You certainly left me many while I taught at the academy."

Oh dear gods--Linhardt really can't do anything but laugh a bit, trying and failing to muffle it somewhat with his hand. "You--you never struck me as the sentimental type. But even with that, it was so long ago...I didn't even remember those myself. I can't even recall what I would have wrote..." He silently hopes Byleth has forgotten the contents, at the very least; Linhardt can't imagine that they were the very height of poetry, at his age.

Byleth seems to consider that for a moment, before his lips quirk into something of a smirk as Linhardt realizes that his hopes are about to be swiftly dashed. " _Roses are red, your hair is blue; I'd really much like, to go on a date with you._ " He watches Linhardt's blush deepen into a shade of crimson that shouldn't even be possible, before the green haired man buries his face in his hands and lets out something of a groan.

"Gods. _Gods_. I was even worse than I thought back then--"

"No, no." Byleth chuckles and sits up, trying to get Linhardt's hands out of his face--really, this is the most hilarious thing he's seen in a _while_ , but he mostly wants his husband to look at him and not be so humiliated. "Lin, I found it incredibly charming."

"Your standards for "charm" need some work." Linhardt wasn't budging, simply waiting for the earth to consume him whole so he didn't have to deal with the embarrassment of this. Anything would be better.

Unfortunately, Byleth wasn't having it, and he decides to go for a different approach; he winds up pulling Linhardt in, the man's buried face resting against his chest as he hears Linhardt yelp ("H-hey, what are you doing?!"), before they both fall back onto the ground and Byleth holds Linhardt in place; one hand behind other man's head, and one at his back. It's then, and only then, that he recites the letters he received over the years.

Any other time, this sort of position would be delightful for Linhardt; as it stands, as Byleth goes through every piece of awful poetry and attempts at wooing the man, he feels a deep sense of embarrassment at his past shame, and yet...also a deep appreciation for Byleth, because he truly _never_ forgot anything, it seemed. Perhaps it was hasty to say he wasn't sentimental; his former professor had never really been the sort to show any traditional manner of affection due to his own emotions being rather sedate, in comparison to most. Linhardt had a similar problem, though not to the extent of Byleth's, but it meant that he understood that Byleth had his own way of doing things. Showing he cared, showing affection...

This was simply a part of it. That, the gentle rubbing at his back as Byleth nears the end (or at least, what Linhardt hopes is the end--he certainly got _better_ over the years, but it was still embarrassing to hear.), and even the gentle fingers running through his scalp to calm him, and even humoring him to take a nap at the lake; he wasn't often the type to show affection in this manner, but he showed it in little ways that mattered the most. Linhardt eases some as minutes pass, his hands finding their way around his husband's hips and pulling him in closer. All of that embarrassment has heated his face to the point where he feels sleepy, and by the time Byleth finishes, his chuckle is interlaced with a light yawn. "...I truly can't believe you remembered each and every one of those..."

"It wasn't as if I could keep them; surely, you understand." Byleth feels Linhardt nod his head as he speaks, his hands continuing their motions. "I simply endeavored to remember each and every one you sent, because they were so...undeniably _you_. And I wanted to remember every aspect of that."

"Gods, you're so sentimental. I've been so blind to it..." Linhardt utters that much with only slight sarcasm as he buries himself in Byleth's chest, before chuckling in earnest. "I love it...I love _you_."

"I love you too, Lin." The white haired man feels his own eyes starting to slide shut, feeling like he's about to gently drift off. "Enjoy your rest."

"I plan to; don't worry at all."

* * *

By the time Byleth wakes up, he finds himself on a lounge, one that's undeniably in the manor considering what his eyes see as he first wakes; the emerald green curtains that Linhardt always liked, decorating his house rather nicely. The rest of the windows in the room he's in inform him of the time; when did it get so _late_? Had he truly been out that long? Well, it was no matter; all he needed to do was get to his and his husband's shared bedroom, and all would be said and done.

Of course, the weight on his legs prevented that from being an easy task; it took Byleth a few moments to take a proper look at what lay there, but he was almost startled by the amount of letters that practically consumed his legs. Where on earth did these come from? As Byleth sat up, a note nearly fell to the ground before he caught it with his hand. What on earth was this? Would it explain all of the letters that were buried atop his legs?

As it turned out, it did.

_Byleth,_

_These letters you see, you may not have a clue,_

_of how they appeared, but do not become blue._

_For memories held dear,_

_caused these to reappear,_

_for our love is a dream come true._

_Lin_

_P.S. I'm still not great at this. I hope you can forgive me. But I'll try to get better in the future. ♥_

Byleth feels his own cheeks heat as he reads the most recent of his collection of letters, before hugging it to his chest. Linhardt must have rewrote every single letter he'd ever sent...and truly, that amount of effort made one thing very clear to Byleth.

It seems that even to this day, Linhardt could sweep him off his feet.


End file.
